High School's No Fairy Tale
by bibliophileemily
Summary: Emma Swan's senior year at Storybrooke High has just begun and is already proving to be interesting. She's making friends, but also some enemies, and combined with evil teachers, can Emma pass her classes, avoid detention, and possibly even go to prom before she graduates? Rating will probably go up. No pairings yet. Expect all the high school cliches in this one.


**Author's Notes**: Does Once Upon a Time have a high school AU fanfiction yet? If it didn't already, it does now. What can I say? It's my favorite fan fiction trope. I have no shame.  
A lot of characters have been aged up or down in order to be appropriate high school age. As such, I messed around with the familial relationships; basically, assume people who are related in the show are NOT related unless specified otherwise.

* * *

It was the first day of school, and Emma Swan was already running late for third period. She tried her combination for the fifth time before giving up and slamming her palm against her locker. To her surprise, it popped open.

"What?" She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head and hastily switching her books.

Storybrooke High had not managed to make a good impression on her so far. When she'd first arrived, her schedule had been all messed up; she'd been put in chemistry, which she'd taken at her old school, and pre-calc, when she'd barely passed Algebra II. She'd waited in the office for over an hour, missing homeroom and her entire first period (not that it was the right class, anyway). A few other students had been waiting in the office with her (to also get their schedules fixed, Emma reckoned), but none of them made a move to talk to her. It was a long, uncomfortable wait until she finally got her revised and correct schedule.

Emma touched her left wrist; her tattoo was hidden under long sleeves and a thick men's watch, but she knew it was there. For a moment, she smiled, remembering when she'd gotten it, then she let her face go carefully blank. Tattoos violated the dress code, and Emma was determined to avoid getting detention on the first day. Actually, she didn't want to get detention ever—this was a new start, after all.

The bell rang, and Emma snapped back to reality. Hitching her backpack up, she started running to her next class; unfortunately, she didn't realize she was running in the wrong direction until after most of the five minutes alloted to get to class were up.

"Oh, damn it," she muttered while throwing her backpack down on a bench so that she could hunt for the more detailed map somewhere on the bottom of it.

"You look lost," said a voice behind her; she turned to see a much younger kid looking inquisitively at her.

"Yeah, I am. How's a freshman like you going to help me there?"

"I'm a sophomore!" Emma gave him an incredulous look. "I skipped first and third grade, OK?"

"Right…"

"Anyway, I can help you get where you need to go."

His smile was contagious; Emma couldn't help smiling back at him a little. "OK. I need to get to room 27 for government, but the numbers only went up to 25, so…"

"Oh, for gov? That's in a different building! No wonder you got lost!" He frowned. "There's no way I can walk you and still make it to my class on time…oh, wait! Hey, M&Ms!" he called to a student rushing by.

"Henry, I'm late for class; I don't have time to…"

"I know, I know, but Mary Margaret, this is…"

"Emma," Emma said. "I'm new here."

Mary Margaret looked at her. "You're a new senior?"

"Yeah."

"And she needs to get to room 25," Henry said. "Can you show her the way?"

"Of course! I actually have gov third period too! Come on; we'd better not be late. We'll get detention if we're late."

"Even on the first day?" Emma asked.

"_Especially_ on the first day. Come on!" Mary Margaret grabbed Emma's hand and pulled her down the hallway in the right direction.

"Good luck, Emma!" Henry called after them.

"Thanks, kid; I owe you one!" Emma called back before she and Mary Margaret ran out the door and into the correct building.

* * *

Regina Mills always sat in the same spot in every class: third row back and as close to the center as possible. She was already seated when the first bell rang and carefully observing the other students as they filed into the classroom. She liked to know exactly who was in each of her classes; it was useful to keep track of her allies and her enemies, those who could be trusted and those who weren't worth her time.

Kathryn, Regina's best friend, sat in the desk next to her, her textbook, notebook, and pen already neatly set out; she was an overachiever—4.0 GPA, running for student body president, and captain of the cheer squad. David, Kathryn's boyfriend, sat behind her, playing paper football with his buddy Sean. Regina considered David a friend because of Kathryn; Sean was insignificant. She only really interacted with either of them because they were football players.

In the back of the classroom, Jefferson was scratching something into his desk with a contraband Exacto knife; Regina got along with him, but he was so unpredictable. It was always best to exercise caution when dealing with him. Next to him, the school's biggest bookworm Lacey had her nose buried in some hardcover classic, while next to her, bad girl Ruby was nonchalantly polishing her nails fire engine red. Regina considered them both insignificant; Lacey spent more time with books than with people, and being friends with Ruby was just asking for trouble.

"Good morning, Regina," Sidney said as he sat down behind her. "You look great this morning; I love the new haircut."

"Why, thank you, Sidney," Regina said, fluffing her hair. "I felt like a change; it's much easier to have it short—"

She stopped mid-sentence as Graham walked in. Now _he_ was a friend; someday, Regina hoped they could even be more than friends. He was perfection: tall, dark, handsome, with a strong and silent type of personality that Regina knew was hiding something deep and mysterious and not cliché at all.

"Good morning, Graham," she breathed in the most coquettish voice she could manage.

"Hello, Regina," he answered before taking a seat and pulling out the beat up composition notebook he carried everywhere. Regina smiled; this year, she was finally going to find out what he was always writing in it.

The second bell rang, but the class, seeing that the teacher hadn't arrived yet, continued what they were doing. Regina shifted in her seat; if the teacher didn't show up, they would have a substitute, and the first person available to sub would be the principal, and she really, _really_, did not want that.

The sound of a cane clicking on the floors alerted the class to the arrival of Mr. Gold, the vice principal; the students shut up immediately and returned to their seats. Regina sighed; Mr. Gold for a teacher would be pretty bad, but having her mother would have been so much worse.

"Good morning, class," Mr. Gold said softly as he placed his belongings on his desk. "As you may know, budget cuts now mandate that all administrative staff must teach at least one class. As a result, you lot are stuck with me as your teacher for the rest of the year."

No one made a sound as he pulled out his attendance book.

"When I call your name, please respond, 'Present.' Alexander?"

"Present," Gaston answered.

Mr. Gold continued calling names until he reached the B's.

"Blanchard?" No response. "Miss Blanchard?" He scanned the classroom, then continued on to the next name, right as Emma and Mary Margaret burst breathlessly into the room.

"You're late," Mr. Gold said. "I've just marked you absent, Miss Blanchard; you'll have to go up to the office and get a tardy slip."

Mary Margaret's face fell. "Mr. Gold, I'm so sorry; I just…I was helping Emma to find the classroom; she's new."

Mr. Gold looked at them for a long time before making a dismissive gesture. "Very well, Miss Blanchard; take your seat."

Mary Margaret nodded and quickly headed to the back of the classroom; Emma was surprised that no one said "hello" or even acknowledged her as she passed.

"Now, Miss…Anna, was it?" Gold said, his pencil hovering over the attendance chart.  
"Emma. Emma Swan."

"Oh, Emma…what a lovely name. Take your seat."

Emma sat down exactly where he'd pointed; she didn't want to make trouble.

"Now, Miss Swan," he said, pausing in his roll taking, "as you will quickly find out here at Storybrooke High, we highly value punctuality. After all, if everyone was late, order would no longer prevail, and chaos—anarchy—would reign.

"As your government teacher, it is my responsibility to teach you all about anarchy and its dangers; it is also my responsibility to prevent disorder in the classroom. Therefore, I regret that I have no choice but to give both you and Miss Blanchard after school detention."

"What?!" Emma burst out. "You can't be serious."

"I am. Oh, and welcome to Storybrooke High."

* * *

After class, Mary Margaret shyly approached Emma while they left the classroom.

"Hey, um…I'm sorry I couldn't help you get to class on time," she apologized. "Most teachers make an exception for the first day, but Mr. Gold's pretty strict."

"Yeah, I noticed. Just my luck that I'd get detention on the first day though." Emma smiled bravely, but inside, she was crushed. She was trying so hard to make a fresh start…

"What's your next class?" Mary Margaret asked. "Maybe we have some more together."

Emma handed over the printout of her schedule.

"Oh, we have art together!" Mary Margaret said happily. "Funny; I don't remember seeing you in class…"

"My schedule got messed up, so I missed first period."

"Oh…well, your next class is on the way to mine. I can walk with you, make sure you don't get lost?"

"Sure; that would be a huge help." Emma smiled, genuinely this time; Mary Margaret looked at her almost as if she didn't know what to do, then grinned back just as widely.

They started walking when out of nowhere, Mary Margaret tripped, scattering her books everywhere and skinning her knee.

"Are you all right?" Emma cried.

"I'm fine, I just…" Mary Margaret stopped mid-sentence as she looked up at the girl standing in front of them. "Regina," she whispered.

"Well, well, I see you've made a friend," Regina said smoothly. "Of course the only way you could get one is by finding someone who doesn't know you."

"Excuse me?" Emma said indignantly, but Mary Margaret grabbed her arm and shook her head.

"How pathetic," Regina sneered before turning to face Emma. "Now, Emma Swan, was it? Regina Mills." She offered her hand; Emma pointedly didn't take it. "You're new to Storybrooke; you don't understand how things work around here."

"I'm pretty sure I can figure things out for myself," Emma countered.

"Are you sure? I'd be happy to show you around, tell you who you need to know." She stepped on one of the books Mary Margaret was trying to pick up. "And who isn't worth your time."

Emma cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah...here's the thing, Regina: I don't really keep company with bullies."

Regina's eyes narrowed. "And I don't take too kindly to people who don't know their place."

"And what place would that be?" Emma bristled.

Regina was caught off guard; she gaped at them for a moment before turning on her heel.

"You may think it easy to make friends now, Swan," she snapped over her shoulder, "but you'll find making enemies even easier."

"Wow…guess there is one at every school," Emma said to herself before turning back to Mary Margaret, who, to her surprise, had already gathered all her books and was avoiding eye contact.

"I guess I'll be going then," she mumbled.

"Wait, what? No, I don't—" Emma stopped her. "Don't tell me you let her get to you; she's just a bully."

"You mean, you don't…believe her?"

"Of course not!"

Mary Margaret broke out into a huge smile. "Do you want to have lunch with me? I usually sit with Henry, but I don't think he'd mind if you joined us."

"That sounds great," Emma said just as the bell rang. "But on that note, I'll see you then?"

* * *

Lunch period: fifty minutes of pure freedom but also the most daunting moment of any high school student. Waiting in cafeteria lines, navigating tables segregated by clique, spotting your crush from across the hall…

Emma's stomach churned. She'd brought her lunch from home (a good thing, too, as the lunch line was ridiculously long), so she was able to join Mary Margaret and Henry at their table almost immediately after the bell rang.

"Hi, Emma!" Henry said through a mouthful of chips. "Did you make it to class on time?"

"I didn't," she said, plunking her backpack on the table and taking a chair. "Mary Margaret and I have detention because of that. I really am sorry about that, by the way," she said to her.

"Don't worry about it," Mary Margaret said dismissively. "I've never had detention before, but I'm sure it can't be that bad."

"You've never had a detention before?" Emma groaned. "Great, now I feel even worse."

"Really, it's OK!" Mary Margaret insisted. "I'm just happy I have a friend now."

"Hey!" Henry interjected.

"I mean, a friend I have classes with," she amended. "We…we _are_ friends, right?"

Emma purposefully took a bite of her sandwich to avoid answering right away, but Mary Margaret was looking at her so hopefully that she swallowed and said, "Sure. We're friends."

Mary Margaret smiled so widely that Emma couldn't help smiling too. So what if Emma didn't really know how to be friends? Mary Margaret didn't seem to have many, so she probably wouldn't even be able to tell.

"OK, I'm done eating," Henry announced, throwing his bag of chips into the trash. "Let me show you everything you need to know about Storybrooke."

"That's all you're eating?" Emma asked. "Didn't your mom pack you a sandwich or something?"

Henry's face went carefully blank. "My mom doesn't pack my lunches."

"You're supposed to pack your own," Mary Margaret said quietly. "It fosters independence."

"Wait a second…are you guys…?"

"She's my big sister," Henry explained. "Well, kind of. It's complicated."

Emma laughed drily. "I can relate; my family situation's complicated too."

"My dad is married to his mom," Mary Margaret explained. "So we're step-siblings."

"_Adopted_ mom," Henry added. "And that's not all," he began, but he stopped when a shadow fell over their table.

"Henry," Regina said as she passed by, lunch tray in hand. "Did you get enough to eat for lunch today? I brought you an apple." She held it out to him.

"I don't want it," Henry said, looking anywhere but at her.

"I'm just looking out for you," Regina said, her voice suddenly full of concern; Emma couldn't tell if the emotion was genuine or faked. "After all, unlike _some_ people, I can't watch my baby brother starve to death." She glared pointedly at Mary Margaret, then gave Emma a rude look. "I don't understand why you're hanging around _them_ instead of making friends your own age."

"Leave me alone, Regina," Henry finally said. "I don't bother you when you're with your friends, so leave me alone with mine."

Regina sniffed. "Fine. I'll see you at home then," she said before sauntering off to rejoin her friends at their table.

"_She_'s your older sister?" Emma asked, dumbfounded. "Then that makes you—"

"Step-sisters," Mary Margaret confirmed. "It seems some of the fairy tale stereotypes are true."

* * *

After lunch, Emma headed to anatomy class; the teacher Dr. Whale was overly enthusiastic that this year, the class was finally getting the chance to dissect actual human cadavers. Emma was grateful she had a strong stomach; a few of her classmates were not so lucky, and three people had to go see the nurse after fainting, throwing up, or, in the case of poor Anton, both.

Her last class of the day was auto shop; Emma liked getting her hands dirty, and this was the perfect class for her to stop thinking and just _do_. She was partnered up with Ruby, whom she recognized from her gov class; they were assigned a beautiful red Chevy Camaro to restore throughout the course of the semester.

"So," Ruby said, popping her contraband gum, "what do you know about cars?"

"I know how to hotwire one without setting off the alarm," Emma said.

Ruby's eyes went wide with interest. "Really?"

"Uh…" She grabbed a random tool to avoid answering. "So, what's this thing do?"

"Not a clue," Ruby said. "I'll get Billy; he'll tell us. Hey, Billy!" she called, waving over the T.A. "Emma and I need help!"

As he headed over to help them, Ruby leaned over and whispered, "If you weren't kidding about knowing how to steal a car, I promise I won't tell…but you gotta show me how!"

"Yeah, sorry, I was just kidding," Emma said quickly, then sighed in relief when Billy showed up and Ruby completely turned her attention to him. The last thing she needed was someone thinking she was capable of stealing cars…

* * *

After auto shop, Emma met Mary Margaret in the hall on the way to serve their detentions. They weren't the only ones in Mr. Gold's room: Jefferson and Lacey were sitting in the same seats they'd occupied during government class. Lacey was even reading the same book, although she was now close to finishing it; Jefferson was leaning back as far as he could in the seat, staring at the ceiling. He grinned mischievously at Emma when she walked in. She didn't have time to ask Mary Margaret about them before Ruby and a girl Emma didn't recognize also entered the classroom, having an intense whispered conversation. They shut up as soon as they saw Mr. Gold sitting at his desk; he paid no attention to any of the students, but somehow, Emma recognized that talking at this point was against the rules. She shivered, wondering what Mr. Gold was going to make them do for detention.

Two more boys came in and sat down before Mr. Gold finally stood up and addressed the class.

"Good, everyone's already here," he mumbled while scribbling something on a slip. "Miss Boyd, kindly take this up to the office."

The girl Ruby had been talking to blanched.

"Um, Mr. Gold…I was telling the truth when I said I wasn't feeling good today…"

"All the more reason for you to play messenger—stop by the nurse on your way back. If she finds out what's wrong with you, bring back a note, and I'll excuse you from detention."

The girl turned even paler, but she took the slip and left.

"Now, for the rest of you," Gold began, "clear your desks and sit facing forward. Miss French, that means the book goes in your backpack, and Mr. Wright, four on floor."

"Too many of you already know the routine," he continued as he took a large clock from the wall, "but for those of you who are first gracing me with your presence…" He set the on his podium so that all the students couldn't avoid looking at it. "The entire point of detention is punishment.

"For one hour, it is my job to make you sorry creatures as miserable as possible. What better way than to give your overactive minds nothing to do? Nothing to do but watch the clock slowly tick away the seconds until you're released…"

Emma's heart sank; there was no questioning it—Mr. Gold was pure evil. She stared at him in disbelief, almost expecting him to let out a villainous laugh, but instead he smiled at the class and said smoothly, "One hour. Starting…now."

'Well, I was right after all; my first day at Storybrooke sucked,' Emma thought to herself. 'Just another crappy day in a long tradition of crappy first days.' Just as she was about to resign herself to despair for the rest of that hour (only fifty-nine minutes and twenty-two seconds to go), Mary Margaret nudged her foot and smiled at her, and Emma amended her previous thought.

'Well, I guess today wasn't _too_ bad,' she thought. 'This time, I actually made a friend.'


End file.
